Black Magic Woman
by TaelorTot
Summary: Hellboy returns to New Orleans on a mission to keep the dead in their graves. It seems easy-something he can do in a day but with voodoo nothing is easy. And nothing is as it seems in New Orleans. Join us. *Comic-verse*


**Black Magic Woman**

* * *

**Chapter Youn**

New Orleans was experiencing some bad juu-juu, man. It wasn't the loads of tourists or the crawfish sources dying out that had the place feeling anxious. It was something in the air that had the place feeling as if all New Orleans' luster was gone. Even Hellboy could feel it.  
The ghost and spirits that haunted the streets were gone and everything was as silent as their empty tombs. He stood behind the plane of glass, inside a coffee shop watching a group of tourists snap pictures of a sham voodoo shop across the street. When they crowd passed he paid and went down the side alley of the sham shop into a vine yard down a small road where the pawn shop stood. One of the remaining wooden buildings in the area, it had a porch with Indian poles for columns.

In the display window a pair of decent work boots, a rusted wench, and F.M. radio sat on dusty velvet. A handmade sign on the door indicated the place was open. Hellboy walked in spotting the grey Creole head of Gran. She was bewildered to see such a creature like him and stuttered to say hello. Hellboy could smell her fear and heard the uneasy shift of a gun behind the counter.  
"I'm here to see Josh."  
Her hand rested easy on the barrel, "Oh you just missed him, buby. He'll be back soon."  
"Do you know how long he'll be gone?"  
"He'll be back soon."  
Hellboy decided to have a look around and by the time Josh returned, Gran and Hellboy were haggling the price of a belt buckle.  
"Hellboy! Glad you could make it!" Josh exclaimed holding a box, "Come to the back we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

Hellboy knew the Caswell Brothers from his childhood on the New Mexico base. He met the two when he was seven and they were nine and six. Josh and Jesse were playing soccer, a game they had seen the local kids play when they visited South America. Hellboy was out of his quarters, outside the base fencing, out from under the strict gaze of Professor Bruttenholm and condemnation of privileged officials.

Josh and Jesse had greeted him so normal with little curiosity or fear that they even offered him sun block and a share of their lunch. By the time he was noticed missing, Hellboy had made friends for life.  
The brothers were total opposites. Jesse was quiet and obedient; the type of guy who took orders well. Josh on the other hand was outspoken, loud, and filial. Hellboy always enjoyed his company. But it was that Josh was so loud and filial that he never got along well with his father, General Joseph Caswell.

Hellboy didn't remember much about the senior Caswell except he was a man of loyalty, loved his country more than his spouse and had accompanied Professor Bruttenholm in the Second World War. As for his appearance, Hellboy remembered only his void gaze and insensitive choices he suggested numerously during trial-tests with Hellboy. Hellboy particularly remembered a situation where he had stolen some vanilla wafers. "Beat him." General Caswell said so callously and swift. Professor Bruttenholm declined to harsh punishment but Hellboy remembered this because it was so vindictive of a man who was silent but painted himself a firm godly family man. Some time after that incident General Caswell retired and was said to have moved to Austin, Texas and was working in politics.

As for Josh and Jesse, their letters became few. Finally, Josh completely stopped writing and Jesse followed. He didn't know why but he was sure Josh would have no problem explaining since he called him in his time of need.

Hellboy followed Josh to the back of the shop which was a kitchen. Josh sat his box on the table and shouted to Gran that if anyone was called tell them he was in a meeting. Hellboy grinned seeing the carelessness of Josh's appearance; his long rocker hair and stubby chin glistening with sweat.

"My, how you've changed." Hellboy said.

Josh placed a lamp shade he was holding on top of the fridge, "Me? Look at you! You're huge…and red!"  
"Bite me. I've always been huge and red."  
"And ugly."  
"Well I'm glad you looked me up—it's been years."  
"Tell me about it and after all that paperwork I went through to find your number…and the Bureau were reluctant on giving me your location so you owe me."

"So what did you call me for Josh?"

Josh's grin faded fast and he started shelving his cabinets.  
Hellboy waited momentarily. "Well?"  
"Well dad's dead. That's a good start."  
"Sorry to hear that."  
"Ah, don't be," Josh said dryly, "The son-of-a-bitch deserves to be dead."  
Hellboy hadn't expected this sort of remark.  
"You want some tuna?" Josh asked tossing a can on the table.  
"No I'm fine."  
"You sure? Margeaux won't be home to cook till five. You might want to eat the tuna."  
"Who's Margeaux?"  
Josh blushed, "My wife."  
"You're married? When did this happen?"  
"Awhile back."

"We got a lot to talk about."  
"But first business." Josh answered picking up a whiskey bottle and pouring himself a glass. He took it to the head and poured him a second shot.  
"That's a lot for an afternoon drink."  
"You have no IDEA, man." Josh retorted wiping his mouth, "You'd think with him being dead, there would finally be peace in the world. No more hell! No more dad! Well, funny thing—Jesse found his will but it wasn't about money or land, oh no that's too normal of him. The will is instructions."  
"What kind of instructions?"  
Josh swung the whiskey bottle in front of Hellboy's face, "You've seen some weird shit HB! You're our only resort right now, man—you've seen some weird shit!"  
"Yeah, shit you'll never see!"  
"So you'll understand and won't look at me like I'm crazy. The instructions are for his burial and it clearly states if we do not follow them he'll rise from the dead and kill us all!"

* * *

_ "I, Joseph Lloyd Caswell, being of sound mind and body have recorded the precise instructions for my burial. I have practiced the ways and rituals of Madam Bêtise. I lived a righteous life by doing the work of the spirit realm and pleasing my mistress till my last breathe. By her standards of daily life I lived and praised no other man or god than her.  
She has taught me that our mortal temples are precious and that my body be not preserved by human standards and that for it to become one again with the earth that it should not be embalmed but buried the way I am found. I deserve a perfect burial so I can join her in the afterlife where I will be free of disappointment and pain of this mortal world. Here are the rest of the instructions for the preparations of my body…"_

Hellboy laid down the written will of the senior Caswell and folded his arms to think. Josh leaned against the pantry door waiting, "Well?"  
"I can smell the bad juu-juu on this paper. It's defiantly real; it's been sealed in black magic."  
"Meaning?"  
"It's a contract."  
Josh sighed reaching for the whiskey bottle but Hellboy beat him to it.  
"So this is something we should defiantly worry about?"  
"I would if I didn't want my father to turn into a zombie." Hellboy said kiddingly but Josh stared— "Well that's what he's gonna be if he's been embalmed and he wakes up."

"This is bad."  
"Yeah, it's really bad." Hellboy chanted watching the brown liquid flow past the rim of his glass.  
"How bad is it?"  
"Magical contracts…" Hellboy said in a matter-of-fact way, "Like this have horrible consequences if one party does not fulfill their obligations. I've never seen a written one until know but I have seen the corpses of people who have tried to loophole a contract and they paid—oh, did they pay."

Josh swallowed his third glass hard. Hellboy grabbed the will and reviewed the items and preparations that had to be a specific place at a specific time and done at a specific place in a specific manner. It made him think how wrong he was about Josh's father. There was so much to do that Hellboy handed it to Josh, "The first item on this list is supposed to be placed north of your father's bed."  
"Yeah, Jess is handling all of that." Josh snapped, "He doesn't want me messing it up."  
"Okay."  
"But what a fucking hypocrite! When I think of all the things he preached about when I was a kid like he was God himself passing judgment."  
"So you and Jess didn't know about him practicing voodoo?"  
"We saw the signs but didn't think nothing of it."  
"And who's this mistress?"  
"It ain't my mom, that cheating bastard." Josh said kicking the table's leg. He folded his arms, "HB this just pisses me off more by the second—him threatening to come back if we don't do what he says."  
"Look on the bright side Josh—if there is one—Jess is handling all the preparations and I'm here. If you dad does decide to pop out of the ground I'll just shoot him." Hellboy responded pulling his coat back to show off his gun.

"Well I'll start asking around about this Madam Bêtise." Hellboy said, "Have you guys checked his room for anymore objects?"  
Josh was rubbing his temples, "I wouldn't know what to look for."  
"We need to check."  
"He stayed with Jess at the other pawn shop across town."  
"I need to check. Now." Hellboy implied, "If your dad was into all that deep voodoo crap then he has to have some stuff that's cursed for _their_ protection."

"I'll get my keys. Let me tell Gran I'm leaving."

"Have you covered all the mirrors in his home?"  
"What?"  
"You know the old superstition: _Cover the mirrors with sheets after someone's died so their soul won't get lost in it._"  
Josh looked puzzled and sullen, "I'm afraid I haven't heard that one Big Red."  
"I'll explain on the way to the shop."

"So you guys never noticed the boxes and boxes of cursed stuff in this room before?"  
Jesse stared dumbfounded, "Nooooo…."  
Hellboy reached for the red umbrella near the doorframe; the only item not under a current spell. The room the Senior Caswell lived and died in smelt of must and old people. Bingo chips, Hall-mart cards, plaid shirts and countless coins lay scattered on the floor and matched the vibe of the funky 80's carpet and wallpaper.  
Hellboy walked further into the room automatically taking the bedspread and throwing it over the vanity mirror.  
"There, now that that's done, we can get started. Jesse where did you find the will?"

Jesse, leaning on the doorway walked over and opened the closet door reaching for the higher shelf, "Dad told me before that he left his _important papers_ in a shoe box in mom's bible."  
"Hypocrite." Josh huffed.  
Jesse turned around holding a dusty green shoebox. He opened the shoebox and delicately lifted the worn copy of the Holy Bible. The pages were yellow, frail, and torn in spots. Jesse carefully flipped through the pages stopping occasionally to admire the doodles and underlined scriptures his mom had drawn.  
"I found it here, under some receipts."

He handed Hellboy the bible and he pulled out a paper listed with queer materials.

"Goat's blood, a Black Widow Spider… leave the broom by the threshold."  
"More proof he practiced that crap."  
"Marked on July 12th."

"Ah, that was the day we had a dispute about him moving into a home. I got put out." Chuckled Josh.

"Apparently he didn't want you coming back to his house—hence the superstition about the broom by the threshold."

"No wonder I never visited."  
Hellboy felt disgruntled and reached into his pocket and took out the will. He held the will high over his head and the list next to it in the dim light.

"These are two different handwritings."  
"No way! Let me see!" Josh grabbed the papers and scanned each word carefully before awing.

"The E's and the S's and T's on the will are different from the one's on the list—and the handwriting is more slanted too."  
"So someone else wrote it."  
"But that's your dad's signature."  
"Right down to the tee."  
"This is too much." Jesse denounced squatting in the corner. He ran his fingers over his fresh cut and swallowed.

Josh snorted apathetically, "Don't act like you're upset Jesse!"  
"Shut up Josh! You didn't have to come in here and find dad dead!"  
"So what? It's about time he kicked the bucket and let you have a life!"  
"Butt out Josh!"  
"Maybe dad should've!"  
"You know what Josh why don't you stick your nose up someone else' ass and stay out of my business!"  
Josh and Jesse were face to face. Nostrils flaring Jesse asked—or demanded that they leave. Josh grabbed the bible and shoe box and stormed out of the pawn shop.

"I'll have to call the Bureau and tell them to get down here and confiscate any hazardous items, Jess. Free of charge." Hellboy told Jesse outside of the pawn shop.  
Jesse made a bad-mannered gesture of thanks staring down Josh who was waiting in the car.  
Hellboy looked from Jesse to Josh.  
"Look, I don't want to butt in or anything but you two should work out your differences Jess. He's your brother."  
Jesse grunted.  
"I'm sorry we had to reunite like this."  
"Yeah, me too Red. Take care of yourself."

* * *

Josh decided that evening after dinner to explain the real issues and his sudden disappearance over twenty years ago.  
He sighed holding a beer in his hands, "I didn't lose contact with you on purpose Red. Do you remember that last letter I sent?" Hellboy nodded, "I said me and dad were having a few problems at home. He wanted me to get into politics, become the governor marry some dumb blonde and own a ranch up north—that's what he planned for me."  
"Well I realized I wanted to travel, to move to Europe; I didn't want to live the life he didn't get to live 50 years ago. He got mad and I was a grown man so I moved to New Jersey."  
Hellboy grinned, "Why Jersey?"

"Yeah I know," Josh cringed at the thought, "But I was in an apartment, I had a bike and a job. I never made it to Europe though."  
"So you lost my number?"  
"Pretty much. It's not like you can find Hellboy in the Yellow pages. Anyhow I didn't speak to dad for about seven years. Then I got a call from mom about dad buying a chain of pawn shops. He sold four and kept the two we have now. I was reluctant to come back but I had a dead end job, was ending a four year relationship and my turtle had went missing so I moved with mom and dad to New Orleans. At first things were okay then dad went back to his old ways. Shouting about the wrongs of the world, calling me a failure, treating mom like she was property."  
"Mom… poor mom," Josh lamented with such disdain in his voice, "She married a fool—never saw it coming."  
"I'm sorry to hear that." Hellboy said feeling as if it would make up for the time they had lost.

"Woke up one mourning in excruciating pain. Took her to the hospital and they found the cancer in her left breast. Gave her three months. She died two weeks later."  
Josh became silent, perhaps reliving a moment he had never shared publicly.  
"I think she knew she had cancer and saw it as a way out—and guess who was at her side? Me and Jesse." A tear rolled down Josh's cheek but he sucked it up before Hellboy saw it, "She made us promise to take care of him, even though I couldn't stand him. I was going to leave again but I didn't—because of mom."  
Josh balled his hands together under his chin to think. Hellboy remained silent until Josh straightened up in his chair sniffling; trying to hide the tears that made his facial stubble glisten. He took a deep breathe before saying, "Do what you gotta do Hellboy."  
"Huh."  
"You heard me." Josh said, "Do what you gotta do. I know you're the best at what you do but if you have to blast my dad's remains away—I give you my blessing. Save New Orleans from the wrath of a dead man."

Hellboy couldn't hold in his laughter and before he knew it Josh was laughing too. Both couldn't stop and finally Margeaux poked her head out the door with a frown.

"Its ten past eleven and you two are still up?"  
"Sorry honey, I'll be inside in a minute." Josh said coolly.  
Margeaux winked and said goodnight to Hellboy before disappearing upstairs.  
"Looks like you got yourself a keeper." Hellboy hummed.

"I'd kill for her HB." Josh replied smiling.

* * *

The next morning Hellboy decided to hit the town. If there was one supernatural place Hellboy knew like the back of his left hand it was New Orleans. The place had always been creeping with ghost and the nameless clairvoyant. He'd been involved heavily with New Orleans' paranormal control, especially around Mardi Gras when dumb teenagers thought it would be cool to summon unhappy spirits.

Hellboy knew people in the city but Madam Bêtise was someone new. As Hellboy walked into the small gumbo shop on Fourche Street, a bell rung and Mandeni Green appeared from behind the counter ready to encourage his customer to order today's special.  
"That's okay Mandeni I don't want any of your gumbo." Hellboy said. The old man narrowed his eyes before putting on his glasses, and then his face lit up.  
"It be you Hellboy!" He called ending with a jolly laugh. Hellboy smiled, "Yeah, it be me Mandeni."  
"I have not seen you in awhile, m'boy! I thought you had flown off somewhere and disappeared!" Mandeni said running from behind the counter to greet his friend. Hellboy shook the man's hand as he offered him a seat.

"You be in and out New Orleans a lot m'boy and have not come by and see me and eat some gumbo, haven't you m'boy?" Mandeni alleged waging a finger at him.  
"No Mandeni. I've been on a hiatus." Hellboy replied, "I haven't been in New Orleans for about…three years."  
"Ahhhh… that's too long to go without gumbo!" Mandeni joked laughing again before getting up to fix Hellboy a bowl, "Why I've been missin' you! You should see dem teenagers running up and down the boulevards on Mardi Gras—just looking for trouble! I say, they ain't gonna be happy til' a bad ghost get a hold of em' and they can't return to this side!"

"Well I'm not here on vacation Mandeni. I'm here on busy."  
"As usual m'boy."  
"And I came to you before I go looking to my other sources because I know you know everything that goes on around here."  
"Pretty much."  
"So tell me about this Madame Bêtise?"

Mandeni's face went sour, "Ahhh… she ain't nobody you go looking for. The nastiest witch I've seen in awhile. She the real deal."

"The real deal?"  
"Aye, yes m'boy. She deep in dat voodoo. Say she come off that French island ova there where dey practice it everyday! Dey say she pretty powerful and got a following round' here in New Orleans. It's a shame it is… Gawd only know what she be doing to em'."  
Hellboy leaned closer to him, "You don't think mutilation and killings are involved?"  
"Naw, Hellboy… voodoo don't require blood… voodoo is a good thing—unless a bad soul get a hold of it then it becomes something bad…" Mandeni said licking his front teeth, "I wouldn't be surprised if she dabbling in the darkest parts of the black magic—ya man? Who knows what she be doing to them followers of hers?"  
"Do you know where she is?" Hellboy asked.

Mandeni shook his head no, "Naw my brotha… I don't know where this woman is. She don't stroll up and down these streets like us normal people. I ain't neva seen her but Tin Shoes down the street say he seen her one night wondering around after hours… just walking and mumbling to herself."  
"Who do you think she was talking too?"  
"Maybe some of the old spirits that haunt these old homes… or maybe the devil himself."

* * *

Mandeni directed Hellboy down the street to Tin Shoes. Tin Shoes was an older man—a tailor and famed shoe polisher back in the day when he was a kid. He told the tales of shining the shoes of famous musicians when he was just a boy and they'd drop a nickel in his tin can and be on their way. But it was rumored that he was the last person to ever shine these famous person's shoes before they died.

Tin Shoes and Hellboy were acquainted because of this little rumor; one of the last times he had been down here, he asked Hellboy to find a way to see if Tin Shoes had been cursed. It turns out he had—he had been born feet first instead of head first and he was cursed with bad luck that rubbed off on people when he shined their shoes—Hellboy directed him to stop shining shoes and stick with tailoring.

When he entered his establishment, Tin Shoes was behind the counter, waiting for him.

"Aye, Mandeni just called me and told me you were coming. Thank god he did cause I was snoozing behind here and I would've had a heart attack if yo big red ass would've woken me up."

Hellboy let out a roar of laughter that Tin Shoes joined in.  
"So you know that I'm on borrowed time then."  
"Ya I know." Tin Shoes said, "And I'm glad that you're down here handling this. These followers—they have got to stop."  
Hellboy bent down to speak, "How big is her following?"  
"I say about 30 strong." Tin Shoes said.  
"Well that's not real big."  
"But the followings an older crowd though," replied Tin Shoes, "Old people between the ages of 50-80 being sucked in by this mess, she's a con artist Hellboy—these poor souls."  
"How do you know this?"

"Miss Emma down the street is one of her followers." Tin Shoes whispered, "Now, Miss Emma don't know this but the night I saw that woman, she was leaving Miss Emma's house. Miss Emma had been in a lot of pain recently and no doctors of medicine were making her feel any better. She an older woman with no chillren, no family living in that big ol' house by herself; any easy target for such a woman like Madame Bêtise. It was around 2 AM and I was on da porch with my pipe, smoking in the dark minding my own business and I see this figure down the road. Miss Emma's porch light was on so I knew she came from there. But she was a scary sight—Oh, Hellboy let me tell ya!"

"She wear an African wrap, wrapped so tightly on her head her eyebrows are drawn upward but they painted on. Her face was painted ghostly white and her eyes were round and possessed! She was in all black carrying a suitcase and around her feet were water moccasins!" Tin Shoes whispered in terror, "Just slithering and sliding around her feet! Hundreds—trailing behind her like a parade! But what made it worst—I saw the spirits around her head humming like a drum."  
By now Tin Shoes' eyes were round with fright, "And she was talking to em' and they were talking to her. White as my eyes—I couldn't make out no faces or shapes but they was there and they wasn't happy."  
"So did she see you?"  
"Oh no." Tin Shoes said, "If she had she would've sent them snakes after me or killed me with the Evil Eye. She was too busy talking to them spirits and I was too black to see in the dark. I was saved that night but ever since then I've been watching Miss Emma's house from my window and she comes and sees her every night at 2 AM to give Miss Emma some medicine."

"Sounds like she's doing the old woman a favor."  
Tin Shoes shook his head, "Its bad voodoo. Bad voodoo don't do nobody no favors and besides—some nights Miss Emma hobbles out of her backdoor and goes down the road to them bayous. I ain't never followed her but I know that's where she's going because this Madame Bêtise wouldn't dare set up shop in dis here town—especially with real voodoo priestess trying to make a buck and keep their own clientele so she feeds off the older crowd until they die and moves on to the next elder and she bees sure she ain't in New Orleans by the dawn."

"So you think the sun will kill her or something?"  
"Naw it ain't nothing like that." Tin Shoes said, "She just don't wanna be seen. That's all."  
"Alright." Hellboy said stretching his legs and arms, "Do you think I can hang out at your place this evening Tin and watch Miss Emma's house for any sign of Bêtise?"  
"I don't mind at all Hellboy." Tin Shoes said, "Do want ya want."  
"Thanks a lot Tin."  
"Just let me shine ya hooves before you go out tonight."  
"That's ok. Maybe another time."

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Reviews are very much appreciated.


End file.
